


Gonna Be a Mighty King

by Marks



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Birthday Sex, Group Sex, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-20
Updated: 2009-05-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:04:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/pseuds/Marks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's just a Wednesday, but Brendon can still be surprise king for a day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gonna Be a Mighty King

**Author's Note:**

> I originally started writing this for barnacling's birthday. Yes, that was six months ago. It's still for her. :D This also accounts for the living arrangement handwaving, but sometimes I'm not sure they even know where they live. Betaed by stealstheashes, whose own birthday fic should be finished right around the time Barnacle's birthday rolls around again.

There are noises in Brendon's house. It's not exactly enough to make him worried, but Shane and Regan are out of town and he went to sleep alone so it's at least enough to make him want to investigate. He climbs out of bed and scratches across his belly before pulling on a t-shirt and a ratty pair of sweatpants and heading downstairs.

The investigation lasts the length of time it takes Brendon to reach his living room. Ryan's sitting on the floor, knees bumping up against Brendon's coffee table, and decorating a crown made out of construction paper. There are scraps of paper and felt strewn all over, and there definitely hadn't been so much glitter on his furniture before. Brendon squints at him. It's not that unexpected to find Ryan in his house, and it's not unwanted, but he feels like he's missed a step somewhere.

"Good morning. There's coffee," Ryan says brightly, not looking up from his intense application of beads along the bottom of the crown. Brendon has to say it's definitely the fanciest construction paper crown he's ever seen; kids at Burger King would be jealous of this thing.

He wanders into the kitchen and sure enough there's a full pot of coffee -- good stuff, too. Ryan has about two culinary talents and one is getting Brendon's fussy coffeemaker to work. Brendon's mug is already on the counter, sitting next to the sugar and a bowl of flavored creamers that Brendon didn't buy. A rose in a bud vase completes the spread, and Brendon wonders if he has to help Ryan bury a body. He's willing to do that for Ryan, totally, in a heartbeat, but this is all a little suspicious. He fixes his coffee and goes back to the living room, putting his mug down on the table and sitting on the floor cross-legged next to Ryan.

"What's going on?" Brendon asks, poking Ryan's calf with his toes.

"Your feet are cold," Ryan complains. He leans over to place the crown on Brendon's head and sits back, self-satisfied. "Ta-da."

Brendon raises his eyebrows.

Ryan pouts at him. "You don't like your crown?"

"I didn't say that," Brendon says quickly. He reaches up to touch it. It fits perfectly, like Ryan's been secretly going to night school at some sort of arts and crafts haberdashery. Maybe he has; it's Ryan, after all. "I just... don't know what I did to deserve a crown? Am I inheriting some tiny kingdom somewhere and this is your way of breaking the news to me?"

"No." Ryan carefully pulls himself to his feet, brushing excess glitter off of his pants as Brendon watches his hands. It's kind of a hobby of his, especially now that it's okay for him to look whenever he wants. "Today is your day, Brendon."

"My day?"

"Yes. You're very lucky," Ryan says, offering Brendon a hand up, which Brendon takes.

"Okay, how high are you?" Brendon asks. He feels like he's asking a lot of questions, but Jesus, this is confusing as hell.

"Not very," Ryan says defensively. "Don't you deserve a day just for being you?"

Brendon snorts. "My birthday was months ago, it's not Christmas yet, and there's no special occasion. It's just a Wednesday."

Ryan appears to consider this seriously, nodding along with Brendon's words, a line of concentration appearing between his eyebrows. "Yeah," he says after a few seconds thought, "you should probably take off your pants."

" _Ross_."

"Brendon." Ryan presses his palm to Brendon's chest. "Just let me -- no, _us_ \-- do something nice for you. Spencer'll be back any minute, so go along with this." Ryan's voice has taken on a note of authority, and Brendon feels that all the way down his spine, a shiver of want that only intensifies when Ryan kisses him briefly. Ryan makes a face when they separate. "But brush your teeth first."

Brendon shakes his head disbelievingly, but bends over to grab his coffee cup off the table anyway. If Ryan's going to be like this all day and he's got Spencer roped in, too, then there's no hope for Brendon; the least he can do is caffeinate himself. He turns around just in time to find Ryan blatantly checking out his ass. When their eyes meet, Ryan's have turned dark and promising, and Brendon takes a gulp of coffee just to stop himself from dropping to his knees and sucking Ryan off right there.

He makes the decision right then to go with it like Ryan suggested. It's _his day_ , and even though that can mean anything, Brendon's used to Ryan's whims. He's a fucking _master_ of Ryan's whims.

Brendon downs the rest of his coffee in record time and rushes off to the bathroom, feeling a little silly wearing his crown as he pisses and washes up a little. Ryan is right outside the door when Brendon comes out, and he wordlessly points in the direction of Brendon's bedroom. "I'm going!" Brendon says, but first he crowds Ryan against the wall, stealing a kiss with his newly minty fresh breath. Ryan lets him lick into his mouth, opening up easily for Brendon when his tongue presses its way inside, and when they break apart Ryan is obviously struggling not to push his hips up, a hazy look on his face. The doorbell rings just as Ryan starts leaning in again and he freezes like he got caught doing something he's not supposed to.

"Should I get that?" Brendon asks, and his voice has gone stage-deep, the way it sometimes gets when he's halfway to getting laid.

Ryan closes his eyes and bites his lip. "Not part of the plan," he says, and he's almost growling too. It's fucking sexy, especially when he grabs a handful of Brendon's t-shirt. "Lose this before we get back."

Brendon grins brightly and jogs to his room, throwing off his clothes as he goes. He arranges himself on the bed as artfully as he can manage, propping himself up on all his pillows and tilting the crown forward a little. Brendon closes his eyes and starts stroking his dick with a light touch, nothing more than a tease.

Seriously, now that he's had a few minutes to adjust to the idea of surprises all for him, Brendon's completely on board. It's not like he really needs an excuse for getting naked, and having Spencer and Ryan to himself for a whole day is _almost_ the best thing he can think of. The only thing that could make this better is Jon. Maybe they can call him so he can listen in.

Brendon groans at the thought and arches up. He can almost hear Jon already.

"Jesus, Brendon."

 _Yeah_ , just like that.

Then there's a weight next to Brendon on the bed. His eyelashes flutter open and Jon's mouth is on his before he can even ask any questions. It's _Jon_ , Jon kissing him hard, all warm and Jon-like, his beard scratching against Brendon's chin.

" _Jon_ ," Brendon breathes a minute or so later. "What the hell?"

"I wanted to see you," Jon says, pressing their foreheads together. "Spencer picked me up from the airport."

Sloppy wet sounds from Brendon's doorway grab his attention, and he looks over in time to see Spencer's hands circled around both of Ryan's wrists; they're kissing messily, mouths open just enough that Brendon can see their tongues. It's fucking hot and Brendon wants -- needs -- them both over by him right now. Before he can even ask, Spencer bites Ryan's bottom lip and turns toward Brendon.

"Surprise," Spencer says roughly. "I like your crown."

"I made it," Ryan says proudly.

"I never would have guessed."

Jon laughs and Brendon reaches up to push Jon's hair off his forehead, letting his fingers linger near Jon's ear. "So, you all got together and planned something for me for no reason?"

"You seem surprised," Jon observes.

Brendon shrugs. There's this little bubble of happiness in his chest that's threatening to pop if he says too much, and he's not even sure that he has the words for it anyway. It's not like Brendon doesn't know they love him; he loves _them_ so much that it hurts sometimes. But sometimes he doesn't know if he deserves it.

"We did it because we wanted to," Spencer says, undoing the buttons on Ryan's shirt.

Ryan bats his hands away and does it himself. "And to make you happy." He drops his shirt on Brendon's floor. "You're happy, aren't you?"

Brendon nods like he's one of those bobblehead dolls given a hard push. "Yeah. But you two are too far away, and you all need to be more naked."

Jon grins. "I thought maybe you were putting on a show for us."

"Later," Brendon promises because seriously there isn't much he won't do if they ask, and Jon accepts that, pulling his t-shirt over his head while Brendon watches.

Spencer manages to strip faster than Ryan, even with Ryan's head start, which Brendon guesses is what happens when you have an accessory addiction. Spencer climbs onto the bed next to Brendon and presses his palm against Brendon's jaw. "Everyone got to kiss you but me," he complains, but he's smiling as he says it.

"We can't have that," Brendon says, stretching up. He touches Spencer's waist and pulls him in close, the first press of their chests making Brendon gasp. Spencer takes the opening and pushes his tongue inside Brendon's mouth as Brendon tightens his grip on Spencer's waist.

Spencer rolls on top of Brendon and pushes his knee between Brendon's thighs. He's already hard against Brendon's hip and that familiar rush of pride, the _I did that_ , fills Brendon's head. They kiss and kiss again, getting reacquainted as Brendon's breath comes a little faster.

"That's so pretty," Ryan says, and Brendon turns his head toward his voice, hissing when Spencer takes the opportunity to suck hard on Brendon's neck. There's probably going to be a mark there later, but Brendon doesn't care. He _wants_ that, wants _them_.

Ryan should be one to talk about being so pretty. He and Jon are pressed tightly together from shoulder to hip, Jon on his tip-toes to make them the same height. Brendon catches a flash of teeth right before Jon bites Ryan's shoulder, and he and Ryan both inhale sharply at the same time.

"It's my day," Brendon reminds them. "Come over here and service your king."

Spencer lifts his head, shaking it as he pulls Ryan's fancy crown from Brendon's head. "Nice as this is, it's already warped your mind." He stretches his arm out, not even giving Brendon any time to complain before Ryan's there to take the crown from Spencer's hand.

Ryan smiles sweetly and puts it on Brendon's nightstand. "I'll give it back later," he promises.

"It'd probably get crushed anyway," Jon says.

"Can we get on with the fucking already?" Spencer asks impatiently. As though answering his own question, he starts licking his way down Brendon's chest, biting a nipple and making his way further down.

Jon and Ryan get on either side of Brendon, pressing him tightly between them. All he can do is gasp helplessly when Spencer's mouth closes over the head of his cock and Ryan matter-of-factly says, "I want to finger you open while Spence blows you," his lips brushing Brendon's ear. The garbled confession he once made to Ryan when Brendon was five seconds from coming, the one where he told Ryan how hot his stupid monotone gets him, keeps coming back to haunt him in the best ways possible. Brendon feels surrounded on all sides, safe and overwarm and happy, and it's pretty much the best feeling in the world.

Ryan steals one more kiss before rolling away, tangling his fingers with Jon's across Brendon's stomach. It's almost too much sensation; Ryan's tongue sweeping over his, the press of their fingers against his skin, Spencer's lips sliding up and down on his dick, sucking him at the exact pace that guarantees that Brendon won't be able to hold off. Then Ryan's gone, even as Brendon reaches up to keep him there, but it's okay because Jon takes his place right away.

"Missed you so much," Jon mumbles against Brendon's mouth, and they can't have timed it, but it feels that way when Spencer squeezes the base of Brendon's cock just as Jon flicks a fingernail against his nipple.

Then Jon turns the kiss wet and dirty the way Brendon likes, and Brendon tugs hard on Jon's hair the way Jon likes, and they both groan together. He almost misses Ryan's annoyed, "Shove over, Spence," but it's kind of hard to mistake it as anything else when Spencer shifts to Brendon's side and Ryan pushes Brendon's thighs further apart, nudging two already slicked-up fingers inside.

Brendon swears against Jon's mouth, the sound trailing off into a rough moan when Ryan curls his fingers and paces his in-out slide to match Spencer's mouth. It's bad enough when it's Ryan's fingers _or_ Spencer's mouth, but they might as well go pro when they team up, it feels so good. Brendon has no defenses against it.

"Spencer." Brendon tries to warn him, fluttering his hand over Spencer's hair. "Fuck, I'm." But Spencer stays stubbornly put and only speeds up, the bastard, and there's nothing Brendon can do but come down his throat, squeezing hard around Ryan's fingers. He can't even kiss Jon properly, barely managing broken whimpers as Jon licks across Brendon's top lip and ducks down to bite his throat, right over the mark Spencer definitely left earlier.

They don't even give him time to recover before Jon rolls away and Spencer takes over Brendon's mouth. Ryan pushes Brendon's thighs wide enough that he can feel the stretch in his muscles, a good burn to go along with the shove of Ryan's cock. He's still so sensitive from coming, boneless and hyperaware of touch, the drag of Ryan's dick inside him just this side of too much. He's making some ridiculously stupid noises, trying to keep up with the rhythm Spencer and Ryan have kept steady even as they've changed positions, but he can't do it, especially when Spencer's fingers curl around Brendon's dick, trying to get him hard again. It really doesn't take much encouragement, not with so much stimulation from so many places. Brendon ends up just groping at the sheets, for Spencer, for Ryan, for anything he can reach.

He finds Jon.

"Jon," Brendon gasps, opening up his eyes again.

Jon's mouth hangs open; he's next to Brendon on the bed, their bodies not quite touching because Spencer's in between, but they're angled toward each other and close enough for Brendon to reach out and grab. Brendon lets out another incoherent sound of want when he takes in the whole scene: Not only is Spencer managing to keep his mouth and hand coordinated on Brendon's skin, he's also got his other hand wrapped around Jon's cock, helping out while Jon fingers himself open. There's a face-splitting grin stretched across Spencer's face when he looks up again. He's ridiculously proud of himself, like the porny version of Ryan presenting his crown, and almost like he's hearing Brendon's thoughts, Ryan chooses that exact second to pull almost all the way out and slam in again, hoisting one of Brendon's legs over his shoulder.

"Ryan," Spencer says, and for the only one in the room who isn't having his dick touched, he sounds pretty gone, "do you want to tell Brendon why Jon's doing that?"

Ryan draws in a shuddery breath and fucks Brendon a little harder, digging his fingernails into Brendon's leg. "Jon wants you to fuck him while I fuck you."

"Oh god," Brendon mumbles, helpless. "Yeah, please. Please, Jon."

Brendon only gets a quick look at the way Jon's eyes darken before Spencer's in his face, sliding their mouths together again. It says something for the way Spencer kisses that he almost doesn't notice when Ryan slows his pace down to a crawl and Jon and Ryan's fingers both circle his dick.

The way they gave him no break means that Brendon really shouldn't be so hard already, but another thing he loves about them is the way they test his limits and find new ones, pushing him to new levels, testing what he can and can't take, and he can definitely take this, squeezing tight around Ryan as Jon and Ryan both work to roll a condom over him.

"Is this okay, Brendon?" he hears Jon ask over Spencer's shoulder, his lisp more pronounced as he tries pushing the words out as he straddles Brendon's lap.

Brendon sighs, "Fuck yeah," and Spencer bites his bottom lip again, even harder when Brendon pets his leg and walks his fingers up Spencer's thigh to trace his index finger up around the crown of his dick. He means for it to be a light touch but it turns into a proper grip when Jon's hands press down on his ribs and he sinks down onto Brendon while Ryan holds him in place.

Spencer breathes hard against Brendon's jaw, his head angled so he can watch. "Shit," he says and the word sounds like more of a hysterical giggle than anything else. Brendon wants to answer him, feels like he _should_ , but Jon and Ryan are working on a rhythm now -- nothing as natural as the ones inside Brendon's head or the one that Spencer and Ryan set up without effort, but they're having such a good time trying that it's almost better like this. Eventually, Jon and Ryan start rocking forward and back at the same time -- the motion of the ocean, Brendon thinks and bites back a laugh -- and it looks funny, but it feels so fucking good, Jon rolling up and letting Brendon slide out a little just as Ryan pushes forward, going deeper inside him.

"Spencer," Brendon says, and it takes all of his effort to keep his eyes wrenched open and focus off Jon and Ryan. Spencer's face is red, a sweat-wet chunk of hair falling in his eyes. Brendon probably looks the same, at least the sweaty part; his forehead is soaked, most of his face is, sweat rolling down his face and behind his ears.

"Yeah?" Spencer asks when Brendon doesn't say anything else, arching into the tight grip of Brendon's fist.

"Could you-- do you think you could-- would you want to."

"Spit it out, Bren."

"Ride my face?"

Spencer's eyes go wide and he exhales loudly.

"Please. I want your dick down my throat," Brendon adds sweetly.

"Do it, Spence," Ryan says, almost pulling out again so he can push back hard, ruining the nice rhythm he and Jon had going. Brendon groans and arches best he can. "I can't hold on forever."

Spencer looks like he's going to argue, going so far as to say, "I can't fit with you both there already," but he's lifting up on his knees and batting Brendon's hand away from his dick, and Jon is shifting back, like he's trying to make room for Spencer but all that's happening is Brendon taking him deeper and Jon's dick dragging down Brendon's belly.

Brendon looks up and reminds them all that this is his day again, but by that time Spencer's got his thighs pressed against either side of Brendon's head. Brendon doesn't even try to use his hands, he only wants to use his mouth, so instead he keeps them at his side and offers them up to Jon to hold onto as he darts his tongue out and licks the divot at the head of Spencer's cock.

Spencer groans and leans forward, bracing his hands against the wall above Brendon's bed as Brendon opens his mouth and lets Spencer in. It's not an easy fit or an easy angle, and it's certainly not easy to coordinate when he keeps getting distracted by Ryan's increasingly erratic movements and Jon gripping tight around him, their rhythm completely blown now. Spencer's not easy on him either, he never is, which is half the reason Brendon wanted to suck his cock, but it's hard to get air this way and his mouth is too wet. Jon anxiously squeezes Brendon's hands and Brendon squeezes back just before Jon lets go of one and then Brendon can feel the rough back-and-forth of Jon's knuckles against his stomach as he jacks himself off.

"Oh god," Brendon says again, garbled around Spencer's cock. Spencer looks down and meets his eyes; Brendon halfway expects a sarcastic remark, maybe something about talking with his mouth full, but Spencer only lets out a broken whine. It'd be an ugly sound any other time, but here Brendon only jerks hard inside Jon and tries to open his throat more.

Brendon's leg slips off Ryan's shoulder then and he hears Ryan say, "Guys," in a small voice, a little regretful.

"Go ahead. It's okay, Ryan," Spencer tells him though his eyes never leave Brendon's face.

Ryan's pace speeds up just a little, just enough that it makes Brendon totally useless, making Spencer and Jon do all the work on him, but Ryan's hitting his prostate dead on and it's so good, warm in his belly and spreading out to his toes, that even if Jon wasn't currently riding his dick, Brendon thinks he could still come that way. They'll have to try that later, if Brendon ever recovers from this.

"Fuck," Ryan says and goes still buried inside Brendon. Ryan does that sometimes as he comes, letting the other person's movement finish him off. He trusts them to get him there because they always do, always have.

Brendon feels a little empty when Ryan pulls out, which is a little silly considering what else is happening to him, but then he feels blunt, wide fingers pressed against his hip again -- Jon's, of course, seeking out Brendon's hand all over again and that means Ryan's still in the game, stroking Jon off with his spider fingers even though Brendon knows well enough that Ryan gets sleepy-useless after orgasm. It's awesome every single time he fights it off, and Brendon feels yet another rush of love for all of them.

Spencer chooses that second to smile down at him and pull one hand off the wall to push Brendon's sweaty hair off of his forehead, rubbing his fingers down the side of his face and pushing his thumb inside Brendon's mouth alongside his dick. Brendon hollows his mouth and closes his eyes, feeling Jon take him in as Spencer slides against his tongue, and his body barely gives him any warning before he's moaning wetly around Spencer and gripping Jon's wrists tight, arching up off the bed as he comes again.

" _Brendon_ ," Spencer and Jon say together, and Ryan hums his approval. Jon lets out a rough gasp then, which is followed by Spencer letting out an indignant "Hey!" and jerking forward suddenly. Brendon scrapes his teeth against Spencer's dick, just a little reminder that he's still where he is.

"Sorry," Jon says, still breathless but not actually apologetic.

"Jon got your back good there, Spence," Ryan says, suddenly appearing in Brendon's line of vision, still red in the face and his hair a wreck. Brendon follows the movement of Ryan's hand against Spencer's shoulder and running down his back and out of sight again.

"You don't have to rub it in," Spencer complains, making Ryan chuckle and kiss Spencer's arm.

Brendon whimpers as Jon pulls off him and takes the condom with him -- he's careful about it, it's _Jon_ \-- but there's the inevitable feeling of loss that Brendon hates again.

Jon's on Spencer's other side a second later, though, and he lets out a small sigh when he gets a look at Brendon's lips wrapped around Spencer's cock. Brendon knows how Jon is, that he'll be ready again in just a little while, and he wriggles his arms up between Spencer's legs again until he can rest his hands on Spencer's thighs and make the show good. Good for all of them as Spencer cries out again and Ryan licks his lips.

"Go harder," Jon urges Spencer, and sounds almost surprised to hear himself saying it. But Brendon nods a little and so Spencer does, going faster until Brendon's not doing any of the work anymore and has to close his eyes, but it's okay because the imprint of the three of them watching him is burned inside his eyelids. Then Spencer's coming, first down Brendon's throat and then Brendon feels Spencer pull back, striping his face and probably the wall behind him.

Brendon draws in a deep, shuddery breath now that he has full control over his lungs again and lets his eyes flutter open. They're all still watching him; Brendon follows the line of Spencer's throat down his chest and belly and finds Ryan's fingers loosely wrapped around the base of Spencer's dick. When his eyes meet Ryan's, Ryan smirks at him and lets go of Spencer to thumb away the streak of come decorating Brendon's cheek.

"You're cleaning that wall," Brendon says, and it comes out as a rough, used growl.

Ryan shrugs and says, "It's your day," and his expression doesn't change but Brendon knows exactly what that voice does to him.

Brendon waits until Spencer shakily climbs off of him to grab Ryan by the shoulder and pull him into a sloppy kiss, until at least half the mess is on Ryan's face instead. They both laugh their way through it, Ryan half-heartedly protesting, until they've got their foreheads pressed together.

"What now?" Spencer asks.

"Coffee," Jon pipes in right away, but Spencer nudges him in the side and says, "I'm asking Brendon," making them both collapse next to Brendon and Ryan.

"More coffee," Brendon agrees. He stretches his arms over his head and flexes his feet. "And breakfast. Someone make me chocolate chip waffles. Ooh, and omelets."

"We can do that," Jon says easily. "Then what?"

Brendon leans across Jon and Spencer to get his crown and perches it on his head again. "My subjects, you made a lot of really awesome plans without my knowledge and your king is pleased." He scrubs at his cheek and twists his hips, stretching his muscles to relive what just happened. "But now I think it's time _I_ surprised all of _you_."


End file.
